her
And the devil is my brother
And my father he is God
And my mother is the sod,
Therefore I am safe, you see
Owing to my pedigree.

So I cherish love and hate
Like twin brothers in a nest
Lest I find when it's too late
That the other was the best."[28]

Here, then, we find the next thing which grows out of man's sense
of separation both from nature and from his own best self. It is his
moral judgment on himself as well as on the world outside, and that
power to judge shows that he is greater than either. As Dr. Gordon
says, "Every honest man lives under the shadow of his own rebuke." We
can go far with the humanist in acknowledging the failures that are
due to environment, to incompleteness, to ignorance; we do not forget
the helpless multitude who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death;
and we agree with the scientist that their helplessness foredooms
them and that their fate cannot be laid to their charge. But we go far
beyond where scientist and humanist stop. For we know that the deepest
cause of human misery is not inheritance, is not environment, is not
ignorance, is not incompleteness; it is the informed but the perverse
human will. Just as unhappiness is the consciousness of the divided
mind, so guilt is this sense of the deliberately divided will.
Jonathan Swift knew that; on every yearly recurrence of the hour in
which he came into the world, he cried lamentably, "Let the day perish
wherein I was born."

[Footnote 28: _Songs from the Clay_, p. 40.]

The Lord Jesus knew it, too. His teaching, unlike that of Paul, does
not throw into the foreground the divided will and its accompanying
sense of sin and guilt. But he does not ignore it. He brought it out
with infinite tenderness but inexorable clearness in the parables of
the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost boy. The sheep were but
young and silly, they did not wish to be lost on the mountain-side;
they knew no better; inexperience, ignorance were theirs, and
for their sad estate they were not held responsible. For them the
compassionate shepherd sought until he found them in the wilds, took
them, involuntary burdens, on his heart, brought them back to safety
and the fold. The coin had no native affinity with the dirt and grime
of the careless woman's house. It was only a coin, attached to anklet
or bracelet, having no power, no independence of its own; where it
fell, there must it lie. So with the lives set by fate in the r